Escape
by TeamAelin
Summary: Feyre's cover is blown at the Spring Court. With nowhere to run, she comes up with a desperate plot to escape - but one which could have disastrous consequences for those she loves.
1. Chapter 1

I was being hunted.

From my perch in a tree, deep in the Spring Court woods, I could hear the sentries and Tamlin combing the ground looking for me. It was only a matter of time before they spotted me up here.

 _Think._

Only a few hours ago, I had been sat at the dining room table with Tamlin and Lucien. While Lucien had maintained a sullen silence for he past few months, Tamlin had readily fallen for my careful lies about the horrors of the Night Court. I had managed to gather plenty of information about troop movements and strategy and send it to Rhys to help our people ready for war.

It had all been going well.

Until tonight.

The King of Hybern was no fool. He may have believed that he had broken the bond between me and Rhys but he knew how powerful I was – and the threat I might pose to him. He had managed to persuade Tamlin that I needed to wear a pair of bracelets, carved from the same bluish stone used to nullify Rhys' powers, to protect me from my own magic. And Tamlin – he hadn't risked asking and me refusing to wear them. Instead, he had spelled my wine to freeze me in place quickly while he clasped them onto my wrists. The bastard even had the nerve to look guilty and tell me it was for my own protection while he did it.

Once the manacles were on, my magic was completely silenced. The glamour I had held on my tattoo fell away, leaving me exposed – the markings signifying me as belonging to the Night Court. Tamlin's shock as he stumbled back had been priceless – almost worth the months I had withered at this infernal court. It had also given me a single, precious moment to dart for the doors behind him.

With my Fae speed and agility, I had reached the main doors to the manor before an earth-shattering roar and the pounding of enormous paws thundered after me. My heart was hammering wildly but, with no magic to fall back on, years of hunter's instinct honed from being both predator and prey had kicked in. I did what I had done for many years, what I knew, what had kept me alive – and headed for the forest.

Now, the howling of Tamlin's beast was growing closer – I could hear him tearing through the undergrowth. I had no idea what he'd do if he caught me. Maybe he'd shred me apart. Maybe he'd drag me back. I had no doubt that, with my magic, I would be able to hold my own against him – with the training Cassian had drilled into me, likely in hand to hand combat too. However, when he had all of his power and the bracelets nullifying mine were still firmly clamped around my wrists, I would barely last a few minutes. I had tried desperately to remove my shakles, but to no avail.

Fear was beginning to build as I realised the true helplessness of my situation. I pushed it down, forcing myself to focus. I weighed each of my options, one by one, knowing that I'd have to act soon.

I had to get out of the Spring Court as soon as possible. If I stayed, it would be a matter of hours before Tamlin or one of his sentries detected me. This was their territory – they had known it for millennia and I knew I had the disadvantage here. If they found me, I might never see home again. Might never see _Rhys_ again-

 _Stop._

I forced myself to take another gulp of air.

I couldn't contact Rhys or any of the Inner Circle – the stone bracelets had nullified that too. Even if I managed to reach one of the borders of the other courts while evading detection, I couldn't enter without the High Lord knowing. The Autumn Court were allied with Hybern – they would simply hand me back. The Summer Court had a bounty on my head declaring that I was to be killed on sight. The Mortal Lands were on the other side of the Spring Court – it would take me days to travel on foot and – if I wasn't intercepted on the way there - Hybern likely had soldiers stationed at all points along the Wall.

Every option had the same ending.

I could hear that they were nearer now – around twenty Fae sentries moving swiftly, calling to each other as they surrounded the forest. Further away but still close, the thundering beast prowled after them.

I was not afraid of him.

I was not afraid, I realised, of his anger. Not any more.

I was stronger than that – I was _more_ than that. In the past, I had cowered with fear and submission.

Never again.

I had come so far – I could not let it end like this. Not when my family were waiting for me. Not when I had so much to fight for.

I lifted my chin. I would fight – I would go down swinging.

I surveyed the forest once more. If I was somehow able to return to the manor and get a weapon, I could break these infernal things off my wrists. A fool's hope, likely impossible, but the only plan I had.

Silently, I dropped out of the tree.

Only to have a hand grip my shoulder and pull me into the shadows.


	2. Chapter 2

I whirled, raising my fists, and caught a flash of red and gold.

" _Lucien?"_

He stared at me, teeth bared, that metal eye whirring in its socket. I yanked my arm out of his grasp and he scowled at me.

" _Fool,"_ he hissed "You need to go. Right now. Do you have _any idea_ what Tam will do if he finds you?"

He continued hissing, clearly panicked, and it was only as my mind cleared that I realised.

He wasn't calling for Tamlin.

For whatever reasons of his own, Lucien was disobeying Tamlin's orders. And right now, I was running out of time - and options – as the Fae converged towards us.

"Help me," I breathed "Help me, Lucien."

He stared at me, and I could see that clever mind racing.

After an agonising silence, he spoke.

"I can't help you escape." I opened my mouth to protest, to bargain perhaps, but he gripped my arm again.

"Do _exactly_ as I say _._ " he snarled "Quickly."

He winnowed us a short distance away to an area of the forest clouded with shadows. Reaching inside his tunic, he produced a vial of clear liquid.

I knew what it was – the soldiers here were under strict instructions not to let themselves be captured. But what good was poison to me?

I was about to turn and run, convinced that I was wasting precious seconds, when I felt Lucien's magic thrum through the air. The liquid in that tiny vial sloshed and then I saw it change almost imperceptibly.

Lucien grasped my hand, showing the vial into it roughly.

"The poison in these vials alone isn't enough to kill one of us – it's the spells we place on it that makes it fatal. I've removed the magic placed on this one; drink it and you'll appear dead, for all intents and purposes. The effect should wear off within three days at the most." He pushed me roughly, away from him, and took a few steps back.

He instructed harshly, "I found you, I tried to grab you but you had stolen one of these poison vials. You drank it; there was nothing I could do." His eyes gleamed and I wondered how often his cunning was overlooked thanks to his skills as a warrior. "We'll work the rest out later but for now, this is your way out."

My head was spinning at the turn of events. I looked at my clenched fist, the poison within, and felt my gut twist.

If Lucien told the truth, this might help me to escape the Spring Court for good. If he was deceiving me… I might very well wake up in chains. If I woke up at all.

But if I ran now… he might very well follow. And call the others.

I might have been backed into a corner – but I still had claws. Magic and swords were not the only weapons I could wield.

So I levelled my gaze at Lucien, and said "I know where Elain is."

Then I lifted the vial to my lips and drank.

 **A.N. - Sorry about the short chapters - I'll be updating them every day or so.**


	3. Chapter 3

I watched as Feyre studied me, the sharp mind behind those stormy eyes that she'd hidden from Tam so well.

Truthfully, I hated her for leaving.

Despite everything that had happened, _I_ had stayed. I had weathered Tamlin's temper. I had taken his rantings. I had followed his orders to give the people of Spring someone to look to as they rebuilt – to give them some stability as they picked up the pieces of whatever they had left after Amarantha.

Feyre could have helped me, helped Tam. Instead, she ran away – right into Rhysand's arms. Rhys, who delighted in terror and found cruelty to be a sport.

But she _had_ run away. Whatever Tamlin believed, Feyre had left of her own free will. I knew it in my bones, even before the letter came, before I went to the Night Court to retrieve her. Despite that, I still believed that she should have returned with me – she could have been a beacon of hope and safety to the denizens of Spring. More than that, she _knew_ what Tamlin might do in her absence, if he thought she was in danger.

I had lost everything the moment I watched my beloved die at the hands of my father – my family, my home, any hope I had for a future. At the time, I would have given anything to take her place – to not have to be left behind in a world that was infinitely lonely and devoid of happiness. I had had my one chance at starting over when Tam took me in. He had given me security, status, friends when I so desperately needed them and I was forever indebted to him.

Even so… in over a century at this court, and the lingering darkness had never truly left me. It was selfish and ungrateful and I would never have told Tam but I still felt as endlessly sad as I did a hundred years ago. I had concentrated so hard on ignoring what had happened, believing that it was a wound I could never truly heal. But… sometimes I wish I had tried.

Tried because, as I looked at the woman before me, I could see no shadows haunting her eyes. I knew the terrors she had suffered after the events of Under the Mountain, and I hadn't tried to help because that wasn't what was done. I didn't think that there was anything I could do. But looking at her sure stance, her steady gaze, I knew I had been wrong.

Whatever Feyre had been doing over the last few months, it had been what she needed to heal. And for the woman who offered up her name to save me, the human who had thrown a spear at a Faerie Queen in defiance – I wanted her to have that healing. And perhaps, I wanted to think that if she had found it, maybe I could too.

Feyre appraised me a final time before uttering the words that made my heart still.

"I know where Elain is."

Immediately, before I could react, she downed the vial in one go.

It took less than an instant.

Her arms slackened, then her eyes widened as if in surprise. Then, rather unceremonially, she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Even with my Fae hearing and sight, I couldn't hear her breathing or see the rise and fall of her chest.

Dead – but not truly.

Clever – so clever to say the one thing she knew might stop me from turning her over to Tamlin. It had been shocking when my heart was gripped with an unmistakable, unbreakable hold. A mating bond – so rare, so precious. In that moment, I had wondered if the redemption I had sought for centuries was truly to be dangled before me before being snatched away. However, later I was almost glad Elain – even my thoughts stumbled over her name - didn't return with us. The Spring Court was volatile, held firmly in Hybern's fist and subject to the whims of Tamlin's rages. Moreover – and this was something buried deep in my heart – I was terrified that if I met her while I was still so broken, I would screw it all up. No doubt after what happened to her, Elain would need healing and adjustment of her own. And maybe – maybe, someday when we both found what we needed to survive, we would find each other. But I was not of the Spring Court – I would be damned if I followed in their ancient traditions and sought her out before she was ready. Before we both were.

Now though, I would fight for a future. I had no idea what the Mother had planned for me, but after Feyre's return I knew that there might be something more than existing in sadness. Maybe even something more than Spring, after years of thinking there was nowhere else I could go.

Snapped back into the present, I drew my bow from across by back and nocked an arrow into it. And then, I loosed a cry.

" _FEYRE! DON'T-_ "

I could hear the momentary pause as my voice rang through the forest.

And then, chaos.

 **A.N. Sorry it's taken a while – next chapter will follow shortly. Any and all comments are welcomed.**


	4. Chapter 4

FPOV

I was in the darkness, and it was peaceful.

I felt as though I was curled up within my own body, hidden within my frame. I knew that this couldn't be the afterlife because I could still hear what was happening around me. Still, I felt miles away – as if I was at the bottom of a lake and I only heard sounds as they floated through the water. The hum of voices rose and fell and I heard one sound ring out clearly above the others – an earth shattering, anguished roar.

I mused on what the sound could be – I could only faintly remember what had happened before I was plunged into this darkness. The depths beckoned to me, like calling to like – I had been birthed from the never ending dark and one day, I would return to it. And now, it was so close – I knew that, with a single thought, I could step over that eternal, ancient line.

 _Not yet,_ a voice – my voice – whispered.

Not yet.

LPOV

All hell had broken lose at my cry.

Sentries and guards had come shouting and crashing through the underbrush, followed closely by the frantic pounding of the beast's footsteps. It had taken the frantic crowd just seconds to reach me and Feyre.

And then, silence.

Silence as they beheld the Lady of Spring sprawled upon the forest floor, one arm flung out from her body with a single, empty glass vial still clutched in her fist.

The same fist stained with black swirls and symbols known to every High Fae and Lesser Faerie in these lands – belonging to the Night Court.

In the deathly silence, the sound of Tam's approach was jarringly loud. The assembled fae seemed to freeze, their faces going ashen as they realised what was sure to follow.

Tamlin crashed through the trees, his green eyes full of fury as he scanned the clearing – and his eyes fell on Feyre, prostrate upon the ground. He stilled, and I could sense him taking in the details the others had already gauged – the lack of a heartbeat and the absence of breath. In a sharp flash of light, the beast disappeared and was replaced by the High Lord – still staring dumbly, as if time had yet to catch up to him. My heart was pounding violently in my chest – now began a truly dangerous game

Slowly, cautiously, he took a step forwards. Another. And then he must have seen the empty capsule in her hand.

Tamlin stumbled the final distance before slamming to his knees before her. Fragile – that's how she looked right now, I realised. Vulnerable and breakable – or broken, I supposed.

He reached for her, clumsily brushing her hair from her face before cradling it in his hands.

The look on his face struck me like a stone. I had seen this before, Under the Mountain; I had felt it myself, kneeling on a marble floor in the Autumn Court. Helplessness and despair and pure agony as you realised that you were not enough to save the one you loved.

And this time, I had done that to Tam. Maybe that made me no better than my brothers.

As the High Lord tipped back his head and howled at the sky, I wondered if I hadn't made a dangerous mistake.

 **A.N. Sorry for the POV headers - it changed in this chapter and I needed to keep them distinct. Enjoy!**


	5. Chapter 5

LPOV

Tamlin had lain there for hours, growling at anyone who came too near and clutching Feyre's limp form to his chest. Eventually, the sentries had dispersed – no doubt to inform Hybern and his allies and for fear of being ripped apart. I had simply stood there, at a loss as to what to do. Feyre had three days – at the most – before her icy skin warmed and her heartbeat returned. If that happened while she was still here... I didn't want to imagine what happened next. What would happen if it was traced back to me.

More than that fear, however, was – guilt. Deep, heart rendering guilt as I watched Tamlin lying in the mud, clutching his betrayer close to him. I had expected him to rage, to rip and shred apart, but his face… he looked lost. Broken. As if all he had ever wanted had been snatched from him with the ease of plucking a rose.

Flawed or not, he had loved her. And I was taking her from him. Perhaps she was not his to keep, but no one deserved to be dragged through the hell I saw in his eyes. The agony of that loss echoed in my memory like a phantom wound, and it was all I could do not to beg my friend's forgiveness. The one thing which kept me stony faced and quiet was the memory of Feyre in the Night Court forest. Healed. Happy. Whole.

I could give her that – for all I had failed her.

So as the pearly grey dawn rose over the horrifyingly peaceful scene, I turned and walked back to the manor.

RPOV

"Troops are stationed here, here and here" I motioned to the map, covered in markers of various sizes and colours. From Feyre's most recent information, we knew that there was an aerial cavalry pushing through the Autumn Court. An attack was surely imminent but Azriel was currently evacuating all of the towns and villages on the southernmost border to the safety of the lands around Velaris.

"We need to consider how to act on this information – we can't do too much lest it traces back to the Spring Court and Feyre. I know Hybern is still suspicious." Although it terrified me, I knew that Feyre could hold her own for a little longer in that hellhole – a few more weeks and she would be back home.

While she was gone, I had slowly begun to open up to my inner circle – my family – about the horrors I had experienced under Amarantha.

It had felt… good. To relieve some of the weight. There had been tears and rage and mournful silence from my friends as I recounted some of the darkest moments - but never any pity or condemnation. I had been terrified to let my mask slip but it had been a relief – to admit that I was broken but healing. To not have to pretend any longer.

Cassian, now standing at my left, crunched an apple as he circled a territory with his finger. "Patrols on the western border – closest to Hybern – have reported a sudden drop in attempted infiltrations over the last day. A break in Hybern's strategy suggests he might be planning an attack elsewhere and is moving his troops to reinforce it. But he knows we're monitoring him – why make it obvious?"

"Surprisingly astute, Cassian," drawled Amren from where she leant on the opposite side of the table. Cass inclined his head, grinning fiendishly – any compliment from the firedrake was a miracle in itself.

Mor shoved a disgruntled Cassian out of the way and came to observe the map. "So Hybern's changed his movements – and he doesn't care if we know." She scratched her head, a frown creasing her forehead. "That's not good. He might have some new information or a bargaining tool to use against us and I'm betting that he wants us to know about it." She leaned back and I could see the gears turning in her head. "Have you heard anything recently from Fey- "

A thunderous crash shattered through the silence. Mor, Cassian and I were on our feet in an instant, reaching for weapons and magic as we whirled towards the source of the sound. Only Amren remained lounging in her chair, although even she looked slightly perturbed.

"Azriel." Was all she said.

Mor was already moving, sprinting through the pillars and onto the balcony. We all followed, even Amren, and I rounded the corner to see the shadowsinger in the middle of a pile of debris. Mor was beside him, already scanning for injuries but from what I could tell he had landed quickly, violently – urgently.

"Az" Cassian and Mor said in unison, their voices ringing with concern. Azriel was trained in stealth and shadows – it was impossible he'd landed that way intentionally. I saw Mor's shoulders slump in relief as she realised he was unhurt at the same time as Azriel's eyes met my own.

And I wished I hadn't.

"Rhys." His voice was deep and cautious. I took an involuntary step back at the agony twisting his expression. Mor and Cass fell silent – Azriel showing any emotion was rare. Something was horribly wrong.

No.

Az rose from the ground – slowly, carefully. Like he was approaching a wounded animal. Preparing to give the death blow.

 _No._

I think I might have said it aloud, might have whispered it as my mind pieced the fragments together.

Azriel stopped before me and I could see the news tearing him apart from the inside.

"One of my sources within Hybern just received some information. There was an incident at the Spring Court yesterday evening."

He stopped, lowered his eyes while I continued to stare at him.

"Feyre - she was… I'm so sorry. She's gone."


	6. Chapter 6

FPOV  
The world was clearer now. Lighter, almost.

What had I done?

I could feel myself floating further and further to the surface of – wherever I was – with each moment. Time was hazy here but the sounds which reached me made me think I had been here for a few hours at most.

My memory came back to me piece by piece and I mulled each moment over, having nothing better to do in the darkness.

Lucien – Lucien had helped me.

 _Why?_

I had trusted Lucien. I had considered him my friend. And yet he'd been content to let me wilt and die day by day while he stood by.

Maybe it was harsh of me, given that Tamlin had both of us walking on eggshells. But I had tried – I had pushed back against the sentries and the seclusion as best as I could while fighting to keep my nightmares at bay. Lucien had tried to make me to accept it. And then, he had tried to take me back to Spring – to Tamlin - against my will.

Perhaps he was acting out of hope for Elain. It was probable, especially given that I knew the strength of the pull of the mating bond. My heart stuttered a little at that but I wouldn't let myself feel the ache, knowing it was pointless.

I craved him anyway. His voice, his laugh, dancing down that secret channel between us. It had been so long since I'd heard him and the damned manacles must still have been attached to my wrists – there was nothing but silence within me.

I would see Rhys again. I would see home.

Three days – that was what Lucien had said. Three days before I awoke. That gave me time to plan – for what, I had no idea. But I would listen carefully, collect whatever information I could and maybe I could find a way out of this.

I had no idea what Tamlin was doing with my lifeless body but the sounds I heard told me that I hadn't been cast into a ditch and abandoned, at least. Fae voices, the scraping of wood and the occasional footsteps.

Not outside, then. That narrowed my location down – presumably, I was somewhere in the manor. Good – I was familiar enough with the layout to give me an advantage.

For now it was either escape – or true death.

TPOV

I was going to kill Rhysand.

The High Lord's days had been numbered from the moment I'd recued Feyre from his clutches. It was only for her that I hadn't slaughtered him there and then. I'd been a fool to imagine that he'd be content to leave with his life – Rhys liked to play games, and he'd seen the perfect opportunity.

I hadn't been enough to protect Feyre. I should have known that Rhys would see her fragility after having been through so much as a chance to twist her thoughts against me and control her. The arrogant bastard had even forced another tattoo on her – no better than a dog marking its territory. No doubt he had whispered in her ear until she could bear it no more.

The memory of how she'd run from me when the glamour fell away would haunt me forever. In that instant, I had known I had been too late in contacting Hybern. Rhys had sunk his claws in and Feyre was further from me than I'd thought. I'd still hoped to save her, knowing that the woman who loved me so deeply – the woman I couldn't live without – was still somewhere in her haunted mind. But a final, brutal reminder of the cruelty Rhys delighted in – in pushing her mind over the edge - had snatched her from me again. This time, forever.

I stared at Feyre's small form, gathered in my arms. I didn't know how long I had stayed with her where she'd fallen but I had eventually carried her back to the manor when I realised how icy her skin had become. I couldn't bear to leave her side, to face a world that now seemed so empty.

I could still look after her, I reminded myself. One last time.

I shouted for the servants, my voice hoarse and hollow. They instantly appeared, glancing at me with wide eyes – and going still as they saw who I held. I didn't know of they'd heard – and I didn't care.

I gave them short, simple instructions – to honour their fallen Lady in the tradition of the Spring Court. I had wanted to give Feyre every comfort – clothes, jewels, anything her heart desired – and I would offer her no less in death.

For thousands of years, the denizens of Spring had held a Caoine for the fallen. The three day ritual involved dressing the deceased and laying them on a bed of comforts to prepare them for the Otherworld. It was a chance to say goodbye, to pay respects - and so that the one who had died would not be alone as they made their final journey. I would honour Feyre – honour the woman I loved who had suffered so much.

And then, I would avenge her.

 **A.N. Sooooo, not much happening here but I needed to set up the story some more. More coming soon.**

 **On a side note, Caoine is a genuine Celtic tradition - I'm thinking there's a possibility it might make its way into ACOWAR, if there's a Snow White influence? Just a theory...**


	7. Chapter 7

RPOV

Everything around me was lost in the inky darkness. Darkness, I realised through the numbness, that flowed from me.

In the middle of the blackness, I reached inside myself for that infinitely precious thread between myself and another. I tugged at it, praying for something – anything – to call back.

Nothing.

 _No._

Others were calling to me through the darkness, hands grasping at me and shaking. Gently, but firmly.

" _Rhys."_

Mor. Cassian. Azriel. Amren.

I exhaled and the darkness spooled back into me, wrapping around my heart.

Mor knelt beside me, her brown eyes lined with silver. Behind her, Cass leant his head against the wall, his shoulders curved inwards and Az stood silently beside him. Slowly, shakily, I dragged myself to my feet. The others watched me closely – to see what I would do.

Wary – wary of _me_. Because even I didn't know what I was going to do next.

The numbness of the darkness was now gone, replaced with the ponding of blood rushing through my ears. I turned to Azriel, needing to say something, _anything_ to keep the emptiness at bay.

"How."

Az replied, "It's not yet clear, but…" he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "There are reports that Tamlin managed to nullify her powers, revealing her tattoo – and that he chased her from the house in beast form. My source is stationed in the manor – she claims that Tamlin returned the next day carrying Feyre - and ordered a Caoine prepared."

"Nullified her powers." The voice that came from me was unlike any I had heard before – guttural and wild.

He had stolen her magic from her. Had _hunted_ a High Lady like an animal. She had been alone when she-

When she died.

Instincts buried deep within me came flooding to the surface at that word and I realised why my family had been wary as I arose. Realised - but didn't care.

I would not leave Feyre in that hellhole. I would bring her home – to her family.

And then I would rip the Spring Court apart with my bare hands.

Az saw the resolve harden my gaze and opened his mouth as if to say something – but was cut off by an inhuman snarl.

I turned to see my Second behind me, somehow already armed to the teeth. And her eyes – the silver flickered in a way I had never seen before. She was a monster too – and Feyre was a part of her family.

"You're not leaving her there." There was no hint of a question in her voice, only a razor sharp edge. Feyre had been her family too – and now, she was angry.

The ice in Amren's eyes made _anger_ too weak a word.

Good.

Before the others could utter a word, Amren grabbed my hand – and I winnowed us both to the Spring Court.


	8. Chapter 8

LPOV

The Caoine was unlike anything I'd ever seen.

The great hall in the manor had been transformed into a shrine befitting a god. From wall to wall there were jewels and silks and treasures piled high – a declaration of wealth surely meant not only to honour the departed but as a display to the living who came to pay their respects.

At the very centre, Feyre lay upon a raised altar on the finest silks that money could buy. She was dressed in a loose, pink dress with unbound hair and bare feet. Over the past day, most of the Spring Court had been here – had wept and stared and kissed her feet, unaware that their grief was for a charade. Tamlin and I had remained here – him stony faced in front of his subjects and me praying silently that Feyre remained asleep for a little while longer – until I figured out what to _do._ She and I were both in a deep pile of shit and quickly running out of time. One more day – at most.

Fortunately, the scent of the flowers disguised the tang of my fear. Hundreds and hundreds of them - spring blooms of every colour and scent scattered throughout the room. Feyre was adorned in lilacs and daisies from her neck to her feet – and a ruby red crown of roses lay upon her head.

I couldn't help but compare the spectacle here with the rites of the Autumn Court. To be this extravagant in death there was unthinkable – the continuous cycle of death and rebirth was expected to simply run its course. I could only remember a single funeral from when I was a boy – a select few family members had lit torches and carried the fallen Faerie to the water's edge. There, I had watched as they set the body in a simple wooden boat and pushed it off from the shore. The current carried it gently away until one of the Fae on the shore lifted their hand. The small boat had burst into flames and was swept away over the horizon until the light had vanished.

A quick, clean end – no glamour or ceremony. And yet it had felt so much more _right_ – to be allowed to return to ashes rather than remaining preserved in a crypt for the rest of eternity.

I shook the morbid thoughts from my head. Feyre was still very much alive – this whole situation was messing with my head. The only problem I had to focus on was what I would do to get her out before she awoke – and what to do next.

It had been dawning on me for a long time that my days at the Spring Court were numbered. I was of little use here – Hybern ran everything and Tamlin no longer seemed to listen to my advice. Until Feyre's return, I had considered simply returning to the Autumn Court, knowing that it would result in my death. Eris always was predictable. However – there was a chance that I might be able to return with Feyre to the Night Court. Maybe it was a stupid idea and I was a fool to think it, but I wanted to see if there was anything out in the world for me and getting far, far away seemed a good place to start. I supposed that the only person I truly needed to convince was that prick, Rh-

A mighty ripple shuddered through the ground – a wave of pure power. Tamlin's head snapped round and his features froze in place before turning dark. Lethal.

My mind clicked the pieces into place but before I could utter a single word, the High Lord of the Night Court appeared in the open doorway.


	9. Chapter 9

RPOV

There was nothing worth saving here.

Nothing pure, nothing good. No hopes or dreams.

To reach the heart of the Spring Court, I had had to winnow to the border and travel through the lands on foot. I had glamoured myself and Amren to appear as rough travellers but as I strode through one of the outskirting villages I realised that it had been pointless.

Every face I had seen was hollow, racked by disease and starvation. Empty eyes fell upon us and fell away, as if the Faeries here couldn't bring themselves to care about anything through the hopelessness hanging in the air. There was no food to be found; no crops or animals to be farmed thanks to the scorched earth. This village must have suffered greatly from the attacks by the other courts on the borders of Spring.

They had been abandoned, I realised. It was war – and the people here had been left to suffer while funds were directed to the front.

Through my darkened mind, the hole in my heart, images flickered. The people of the Night Court – how they'd wept and thanked our soldiers as they were evacuated to the lands around Velaris. Mothers with babes in arms, children and teenagers, lesser faeries carrying everything they owned in small bundles. There had been thousands of refugees – I had overseen their settlement with Cassian and the long, long line of my people fleeing war was engraved into my memory.

I loved my people. There was nothing I would not do to defend them – to defend the vision I'd had of peaceful, prosperous lands. A better world for all. The world my court had helped me to build.

We were dreamers. We honoured our duties; we cherished our responsibilities. And the people here… they had never known that devotion. Tamlin resented his title – and it showed in the machinations of his court. The suffering of its citizens.

For the first time since Azriel had spoken the words which brought me to my knees, I faltered. The thirst to destroy, the instincts roaring at me to pillage and burn quietened – just a little. Enough for me to feel the crippling agony also within me gain another inch.

I hadn't realised that I'd stopped dead until Amren stepped in front of me. Her eyes still glowed – a beast through and through, barely contained in her cage of flesh and blood. She gave me a questioning look and I knew that if I ordered her to go, for us to return, she would.

Feyre. I would reach Feyre first.

And then perhaps I would follow her into the endless night.

APOV

I had seen many fall over the millennia.

Kings and Queens and High Lords, commoners and slaves. I had seen empires come and go, the destruction of good and evil both. Sometimes, _I_ had wrought that destruction.

But I had only known a family twice.

Feyre was more than a High Lady – she was one of us. I had respected her, fought beside her, trusted her. In their world, I supposed what I felt for her and the others might be called love.

I had been furious when Rhys had told us of his plans to let her fester in this court. I had served in great and terrible places myself as a spy – and I knew what the consequences could be. However, this was war – and Feyre had sworn to defend her lands, her people.

She'd meant it, and accomplished it – and then more. The information she had provided had saved lives.

Even so… I resented the fact that she'd had to give this. That the asking price had been so great. A shining light in the darkness, lost too soon.

I had seen Rhys angry, and I'd seen him broken but I'd never seen him lost. He cherished his people above all else and had so rarely wanted anything for himself. I knew the strength of a mating bond all too well – and the devastation that its loss could cause.

I wondered if, this time, after all Rhys had given… this had been too much.


	10. Chapter 10

LPOV

I froze, my gaze snapping to Tamlin.

He stood amongst the flowers, eyes fixed on Rhys. Slowly, his claws slid out from shaking fists.

There would be no words. The offence was too great. High Fae had one way of settling this vendetta.

Rhys' mouth curved upwards in a perfectly cruel smile.

And I wondered if he wasn't crazy as Tamlin roared loudly enough to shake the ground and _lunged_.

The _boom_ that sounded as they collided was the sound the earth might make as it cleaved in two.

Then they were whirling and snapping and snarling, smashing everything in their path. I knew better than to intervene – when the High Lords fought, it was to the death.

Tamlin had knocked Rhys back into the far wall and crashed into him. Fast as a bolt of lightning, Rhys ducked the swipe of his claws for his head and kicked Tamlin off him. He slammed a fist into Tamlin's gut that threw him through the front wall of the house. Debris and dust rained down and Rhys howled as he followed Tamlin from the house. Within seconds, they had moved from the front of the house to the surrounding lands.

I stood there, stunned. Rhys must have had a death wish to face Tamlin.

Or…

Slowly, cruelly it dawned on me.

 _Shit_.

Rhys must have heard about Feyre's 'death'. He'd thought it was real.

I had planned on escaping Spring with Feyre after Tamlin placed her in the crypt. I would have retrieved her once the poison wore off and we would have run.

I hadn't counted on the news spreading – Tamlin had _told_ me that he'd purged all the spies from the Spring Court.

And like a fool, I'd believed him.

Ringing through my head were those fateful words Hybern had spoken many months ago; words which changed everything and nothing.

 _Mate._

The mating bond was strong. I'd thought it was unbreakable, but Hybern _had_ broken it.

Hadn't he?

Rhys had come for Feyre. Whatever his motivations were, he was serious enough to commit an act of war to get to her.

If it had been my mate, I would have ripped apart whoever - whatever - had dared harm her.

I had no interest in seeing what power like Rhys' might do if unleashed on the world in wrath.

I had to wake Feyre up. Now. She was the one person who might stop the destruction.

I turned to where Feyre was lying, racking my brain for how to rouse her.

Only to find Rhys's standing over her.

RPOV

It had been easy to glamour Amren. She stood before me before we entered the manor, a perfect replica of myself.

I knew she was more than capable of holding her own – but I couldn't lose another one of my family.

"I need you to distract him – keep him far away. If anything goes wrong, winnow out." She nodded gravely and I could feel her eyes boring into me. I avoided her gaze. "Don't wait for me."

With that, I turned to go.

"Rhys."

I paused, then turned slowly.

"Be careful."

Before I could react, she turned and strode towards the manor doors.

As she disappeared, I slipped around the side of the house. This close, I could feel my mate – feel her very being calling to me.

 _Not much longer,_ I whispered down the silent bond between us. _I'm almost there_.

A roar thundered through the air, followed by thunderous crashing and howling. It was an effort to remain where I was until I was sure that all the guards had followed the source of the commotion. I rounded the corner of the manor silently and shattered the wards on the doorway with half a thought.

The cloying, suffocating scent of the flowers hit me first. All around me were riches – gold and jewels piled high, interspersed with fine silks and all the flowers of springtime.

And in the middle…

There she was.

All I could think was how much she would have hated the red roses in her crown.

The world had fallen silent around me as I drifted towards my mate. It had been so long since I had seen her – how many times had I imagined our reunion?

She would be smiling, happy and free and I would have run to her, able to do so at last. Then, there would be nothing between us at all – no space, no lies, no duties to keep us apart.

I had waited for her for centuries. When I found her, I knew it had been worth it.

She was before me now and I reached for her. My hands caressed her face – so cold, and pale – and she didn't move.

She was gone. Truly, irrevocably gone.

And then I was falling, falling into an abyss with no end.

Slowly, I leaned down and kissed her. It was soft and sweet and I lingered there, committing to memory the lines of her face and the feel of her next to me.

"Let's go home." I murmured.

LPOV

I felt like an intruder.

The scene before me was perfectly peaceful – Rhys cradled Feyre in his arms, whispering to her. Still, she remained lifeless. He swept his arms under her legs, lifting her bridal style to him and straightened.

He spotted me.

I cried out for him to _wait_ , to listen but I barely uttered a sound before an icy wind forced me to my knees.

" _You,"_ he snarled. He remained standing, unmoving with Feyre held against him – as if he wasn't prepared to put her down.

"Did you try and stop him? Or did you just watch?" His voice was like ice, as if he burned with fury and grief from within.

I widened my eyes, trying to stop him, just for an instant to tell him the truth. If he killed me, he might very well continue to rampage through the Spring Court before realising Feyre wasn't dead. The death and destruction that ensued would be my fault for causing this mess in the first place.

The fury in those violet eyes grew as he looked at me and I felt his magic rallying to strike.

RPOV

He could have stopped this.

He must have known that Feyre's magic had been stripped from her as she was hunted down. He had let it happen, had not tried to help her.

I remembered Feyre's pain as she spoke to him at the Night Court; how he had betrayed her trust out of loyalty to Tamlin, again and again.

I could feel my rage building, threatening to unleash my power across the world. This hopeless world, which had taken so much from all of us – which had demanded such a sacrifice of the one in my arms. Maybe it deserved to be ended by a monster like me.

 _If you're a monster, so am I._

Feyre's words, echoing in my head.

A better world – that was what I had wanted to build. A world for the dreamers who looked at the stars and wished. Like Feyre – and Mor and Cassian and Amren and Azriel.

We were dreamers – who knew that there was a price for our dreams. One worth paying.

Feyre had made the ultimate sacrifice for her world – because she believed it was worth saving.

The faces of the gaunt faeries of the Spring Court flashed through my memory. Bigger – this was something bigger than me, or Feyre, or any one of us.

We had lost much already. We would lose more. But we would keep going – for that dream.

I released my hold on Lucien and turned away. He fell to the floor, gasping for me to wait but I was finished here. I needed to go back to my court.

I looked at Feyre's face, the face of the woman I loved so fiercely.

Only to find her beautiful eyes wide open and staring right behind me.


	11. Chapter 11

**I don't normally do author's notes but if you're looking for a good song for this chapter, I'd recommend 'Maps' by Maroon 5**

FPOV

I was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

The world was closer – I could feel it, taste it. The heaviness that had flowed through my veins for Mother knew how many days was abating and I was able to twitch my fingers with great concentration.

Time to act.

I was priming myself mentally to fight when I awoke. The best case scenario was that I was alone and could slip away without alerting Tamlin. If Lucien was there, I would bring him back to the Night Court with me. I knew he wouldn't be particularly welcome but I owed him my life – and in the human lands we repaid our debts.

If he wasn't there… I couldn't risk waiting to find him. This was war and I needed to be back with my people.

Back with my mate.

The bond within me was still silent – I must still have had the stone bracelets clamped onto my wrists. Still, it was almost as if I could still feel Rhys, close to me. I would see him soon – see him and my family. My home. Warmth flooded me at the thought.

The return of feeling to my body was like falling asleep. Slowly, slowly – then all at once.

My senses were the first to return. I could hear – properly now, not through some murky darkness. All I could make out were indistinct voices and the chatter of birds outside.

Not good – it meant I wasn't alone. Moreover, it meant that it was daytime which made slipping away harder.

I could twitch my hands and feet now, although I resisted the urge lest anyone was watching. I offered up a plea to the Mother, to anyone that was listening, that whoever was near was sufficiently distracted and that I would wake up a little _faster._

It suddenly dawned on me that everything had gone silent around me.

I froze, going rigid. Had someone noticed a barest flicker of movement? Could they tell I was awake? I fought against my sluggish mind and frozen limbs. Just a little more…

A roar shattered through the silence, guttural and wild.

No, no, _no-_

I braced myself for the claws that would inevitably follow, the blinding rage as I was exposed.

The sound of an impact resounded, loud enough to shatter bone, followed by snarling and crashing.

A fight?

I needed to go. Immediately. It didn't matter if this was the invasion of another court or just Tamlin's temper getting the best of him – with the manacles still on my wrists, I had little hope of fighting and winning.

The fighting died away and I could have sighed in relief – if my breath had returned yet.

And then – warmth.

Not just the heat of sunshine on my skin, but a glowing from within me that made me pause. Rhys – Rhys was nearby.

I would know the presence of my mate if I was blind, if I were dead. He was here – he'd found me.

Rhys.

I fought the weight on my mind, my body, and gained inch by inch. I could scent him now – smell the jasmine and citrus scent that was twined with mine. He was near me somewhere – I would reach him.

Heat brushed my lips and I could have wept, wept for all the false kisses I had given Tamlin when I felt so alive at the brush of _his_ lips on mine. I could feel him more and more – feel the heat radiating from him as he lingered close to me.

"Let's go home." A quiet whisper.

 _Yes._

Something was off in his voice, making me pause. Anger? Sadness?

Rhys _knew_ I could hear him – didn't he?

I pushed that thought aside before it could reach a conclusion – a conclusion that might break my heart. I couldn't afford that now. If I could only move _just a little…_

I could feel myself being lifted against a hard male body - cradled in his arms.

He was speaking, growling at someone and I focused on the cadence of his voice. I would come back to him – I _would_ reach him.

I strained and battled even as I remained still. This was my body – my mind. I would not be powerless over it.

I opened my eyes.

My beloved was above me, his violet eyes meeting my own. Shock flared there, just for a second.

But I was focused on the figure over his shoulder, blood dripping from him as he stared with fury and disbelief.

Tamlin.


	12. Chapter 12

RPOV

I stared at Feyre. Her face bloomed with colour once more – her steely eyes open, awake and alert.

 _Alive._

She drew her first breath. And shouted a cry of warning.

I spun barely in time to avoid Tamlin crashing into my exposed back. He bellowed – in surprise, in fury – as his gaze alighted on Feyre.

" _What did you_ do _to her?"_ he snarled.

Amren – where was _Amren_

Feyre jumped from my arms and landed – wobbling slightly. Almost imperceptibly, but… she was still weakened slightly. I was staring at Tamlin but my focus was on her – cataloguing her every breath and movement. Making sure she was real.

Feyre growled, and there was pain laced in the sound – pain and fury. "Nothing." She said, her voice quiet but not soft. "He didn't do anything to me."

"He's in your head – you have to _fight_ him, come back to me-"  
She shook her head, cutting him off.

"You're not listening to me. You _never_ listened to me." Her eyes were bright as she spat the words and I could read the anger there.

"He can't be in my head – not since _you_ put these on" She lifted her wrists and I caught a glimpse of bluish stone. My stomach turned – not just at the wrongness of them, but the fact that they had been _forced_ onto her. That she'd been made to wear them.

"So, while they're still on, let me speak. Freely." She added venomously.

"I am leaving now. I am leaving of my own free will. I sever all ties with you, Tamlin, and I am _not coming back._ " She stood straighter and, though I was still taut with anticipation, I marvelled at her strength – she'd only just come back from the brink of death.

"Don't come looking for me. Don't check up on me. Don't ever try to contact me again. I hope you find your own peace one day but I never want to see you again."

With that, Feyre took a step back and stood beside me. I remained silent – this was something she'd needed to say on her own. Wordlessly, she extended her wrists towards me - still encased in that bluish stone.

I was more than happy to comply.

Drawing one of the many blades from my belt, I snapped the manacles at the joins, careful not to hurt her. Illyrian steel - one of the strongest materials found in Prythian. Feyre rubbed her wrists and, like a key turning in a lock, I felther magic once again flowing into the space around her. She turned once more to the male before us.

"Goodbye, Tamlin." Her final words to him.

I had been so focused on the Spring Lord, white faced with rage in front of us, that I'd neglected to check behind.

And Lucien – who had been lying on the floor for the past few minutes, regaining his breath – barely had time to shout a warning.

The Spring Court sentry must have watched the whole exchange.

Feyre moved first, spinning to see the woman hurl a knife – fast. Too fast.

I would not lose her again.

I knocked Feyre to the ground, shielding her body with mine. I could hear her cry of surprise, of horror as the blade neared my back.

Lucien, swift as an adder, had drawn a knife and hurled it with expert precision at the guard. It struck her squarely through the shoulder and she fell to her knees with a shout of pain.

I braced myself for the impact of steel on bone, for the blackness and the pain.

It never came.

After several seconds, I looked up – to find the blade hovering in midair an inch from me and Feyre.

And Amren standing in the doorway, grinning.


	13. Chapter 13

APOV

The beast had fought well.

It had been a long while since I'd been able to unleash myself or my powers so freely upon an opponent. And only feeling the power thrumming in my blood, the bloodlust enveloping me, made me remember why. That I might enjoy wreaking havoc while _playing_ but that the world around me – and those in it – were still frighteningly breakable.

So I had slowed, made myself appear weakened from the fight before winnowing a safe distance away. The Lord of Spring had returned to the manor and I had followed close behind, intent on leaving as soon as possible.

If the fox hadn't sent a dagger at the sentinel, I would have killed her myself. Her life was fleeting, and fragile – ending it would have been easier than blowing out a candle.

Which is why I had to keep my power under control.

I held the dagger – carved ash wood, deadly and ornate – that had been hurtling for Rhys in the air for another second before I turned it into dust that blew away in the breeze. To protect – that was what I had sworn my High Lord _and_ High Lady. I would see that duty through until my last breath in this body.

When Rhys arose to reveal Feyre beneath him, it was possibly the first time I had known true surprise – quickly followed by relief. Through whatever means, the High Lady was alive and looked like she was as ready to escape this hellhole as I was. I pushed aside the thoughts crowding my mind and rallied my own magic. Brutal and efficient – that was what I needed to be now.

Rhys looked at me, but it was Feyre who spoke.

"We're leaving." With that, she turned to the redhead lying on the ground before us. She stood, straight and regal, and met his gaze. He stilled.

"Choose now – and choose wisely. There is a place for you at the Night Court of you wish." She extended a tattooed hand – an invitation.

To his credit, the fox barely wasted a moment before he was on his feet. He glanced – once – at the Lord of Spring standing behind him, still looking as if he couldn't quite believe what was happening.

Face ashen, Lucien spoke once.

"I'm sorry."

I knew he meant it.

He took Feyre's hand and she grasped both mine and Rhys'. A wind gathered around us – my power, preparing to winnow us out.

The fox was taking in his surroundings, as if trying to memorise them for the last time. But Feyre kept her chin high, her eyes fixed firmly in the distance.

She was done here, I realised.

So I closed my eyes and winnowed us back home.


	14. Chapter 14

FPOV

Stars and darkness and everything in between wrapped around us, squeezing tight. Amren's power – something strange and mysterious.

We fell out of the void as quickly as it had appeared and for a moment I marvelled at the feeling that swept through me, strong enough to make my heart pause.

 _Free._

No more pretending. No more lies. No more.

There would be dark days ahead – this was war, and I was under no illusion as to what it would cost my people and my court. But I would face that war, and Hybern, and anything in this world with my family at my side.

We had landed in the main room in the House of Wind. However, it was different from when I had last been here – maps and charts and papers covered every available wall and surface. A command room. Most of the maps were unknown to me, but I recognised my handwriting on most of the notes. The information I had gathered at any cost, information that might make the difference between survival or destruction. I prayed that it would be enough.

The whisper of wings broke my reverie and I tore my gaze from the room as I turned to face him.

Dark shadows beneath his eyes betrayed several sleepless nights and his hair was tousled – like he'd been running his hands through it. Those violet eyes were staring at me warily, as if he thought I might vanish before his eyes.

He was here. He was real.

Slowly, I reached a hand towards him, pressing my palm against his cheek. He leant into it, still gazing at me, but neither of us spoke. Words had become as foreign and hard to reach as the stars – but right now, I didn't need them.

I tugged on that invisible thread binding us, sending a glimmer of love down it.

 _Rhys._

I felt him then, like a caress against the bond.

 _Feyre._

My mate.

Something broke in me at that moment and I reached for him as he reached for me, the space between us suddenly abhorrent. Then, _finally_ , I was in his arms, my face buried in his shoulder as I was enveloped in his scent. Home – Rhys was my home. Now and always.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck and breathed deeply, drinking in my scent. I clutched him tighter as his shoulders began to shake – silent tears trailing down that perfect face. I could feel my own eyes burning, for the days we'd spent apart and for all we had lost – and all we would lose.

But for now – we were together. And that was enough.

I pulled back slightly and his grip tightened imperceptibly, unwilling to let go. He lifted his head and, as gently as I could manage, I cupped his face between my hands and brushed the wetness from his cheeks with my thumbs. He held my gaze all the while and when I stopped, he reached out to cradle my face in his hand. I closed my eyes at that gentle touch, at the warmth and joy building in me.

"I love you." He whispered.

I leaned in and kissed him, softly and slowly. He kissed me back, gentle and sweet - a reminder that we had eternity ahead of us.

It could have been seconds or hours later that we broke apart, my mind clear for the first time in weeks. Months. Rhys looked better too – as if a raging storm within him had finally calmed. Later – we could talk through what had happened.

But now, I wanted to see my family.


	15. Chapter 15

FPOV

Rhys wrapped his arm around my waist and I was grateful for the contact, however small. It had been barely any time since we'd accepted the bond and I could feel my own instincts rising to the surface. I could only guess how he felt, given how tense he was beside me.

I looked around, starting slightly as I realised that Amren had vanished.

"She went to fetch the others," Rhys told me, idly stroking my hip. I could have purred with satisfaction at the feeling – but we would have time for that later.

Lucien turned to me, that metallic eye whirring as he paled slightly. "Is… is she – here?"

I cursed internally. Elain – Elain was here. I didn't want her to be forced into meeting Lucien – mate or no, accepting the bond or not would be something she chose by herself.

Mercifully, Mor chose that moment to make an appearance.

The door was literally ripped from its hinges as she burst into the room. She whirled – bristling slightly when she spotted Lucien – but stopped dead as her gaze fell on me.

"You're… Cauldron, Feyre, you're alive!" She strode towards me, enveloping me in a hug. I returned it gratefully – I had missed my friend's sunny disposition and infectious smiles. Her words sunk in slowly, helping me to build a picture of what had happened. Later – we would have time to talk it through later.

Cassian followed through the ruined doorframe, eyes wide – no doubt having heard Mor's every word. His wings were still bandaged behind him – no doubt, being grounded for so long had been driving him mad.

Mor released me at last, and I made my way over to Cass.

"Well, well," he drawled, that insufferable grin stretching his face. "Looks like someone's let themselves go. You've got a hell of a lot of training to catch up on."

I rolled my eyes, even as I grinned back – no injury in the world would be able to dampen that arrogance.

"I want to try something," I told him, rolling my shoulders to loosen the tension and prepare myself.

"I'm up for anything, sweetheart, but I'd rather Rhys didn't try to kill me just yet."

I huffed at him and he smirked back, even as Mor elbowed him in the ribs. Rhys loosed a half-hearted growl, but I could tell that he was curious – they all were as I took both of Cassian's hands in mine and shut my eyes.

Being near Tarquin had helped strengthen my water magic and I hoped the same went for Tamlin. I had spent months in his court, around him, using the essence of him to slip past his shields undetected. Now, I rallied that feeling.

 _I am Tamlin. I am Spring; I am flowers and fields and meadows. I am protector; I am High Lord; I am Spring, I am Spring._

I could feel the slumbering power within me open an eye, as if in recognition. I urged it to bend to my will, to take shape as I commanded it to. This was _my_ power now.

I let it build and build, before letting go with a sharp exhaling of breath. Power rippled out from me like a phantom wind, knocking Cassian back on his ass.

And behind him… Large, membranous wings – healed and whole. I had kept the same scars and markings adorning them, but they were otherwise as good as new.

Cassian rose slowly, stretching his wings and turning to look at them. Beside him, Mor had clapped a hand to her mouth, staring with awe. Cass beat them – once, twice. As sturdy and strong as they'd ever been.

He turned back to me, silver lining his eyes and knelt suddenly before me.

"I… Thank you." He lifted his head to look at me, his eyes shining. "Thank you." He repeated.

Rhys had approached behind me, and I could hear the wonder in his voice as he asked, "How?"

I smiled, raising my hand to look at it. "Shape shifting. I'm not sure I could have healed such injuries, even with my magic, but… they'll stay like that. Forever. I need my second favourite Illyrian back in the ring getting me back in shape."

Cass roared with laughter at that, tipping his head back as he arose. Mor punched his shoulder, grinning fiendishly, and he ruffled her hair, earning another swift jab in the ribs.

Azriel had appeared in the meantime – although I had no doubt that his shadows had told him everything the moment we'd arrived. He bowed, darkness swirling around him and I inclined my head, smiling.

"It's good to see you back, High Lady." Said Az.

I could feel the others interest peak at the title he used. Rhys must have told them – but I hadn't said anything about it yet. Where did I begin?

I opened my mouth to explain, but was interrupted by a crashing from the hallway.

" _Where is she."_

More crashing – as if someone was stumbling along. I listened harder and made out two sets of clumsy footsteps – and another, silent pair.

" _WHERE_."

I'd know that voice anywhere.

Amren slipped through the doorway, muttering a curse under her breath.

And, Mother above, Nesta appeared in the doorway.

Glaring.


	16. Chapter 16

RPOV

I had faced many opponents over the centuries. Demons and devils; nightmares made flesh.

And yet the fire in Nesta Archeron's eyes promised a hell greater than any of them.

She caught sight of Feyre, and her anger faltered – just for a second. Elain had appeared in the doorway behind her, and she let out a soft gasp. Someone – likely Cassian – must have told them Azriel's news, going by Elain's red rimmed eyes. They'd had a right to be told, but… it must have been a huge blow to have believed that they'd lost their youngest sister.

 _The sister they left to starve,_ a voice whispered in my head. I pushed that thought away – right now, I had to deal with the fallout.

Nesta stared at Feyre, and she stared back. A chasm yawned between them, full of hurt and fear and a thousand words unsaid. Nesta straightened, defiance lining every inch of her form – no doubt pushing those emotions down, down and turning them to fiery rage. Too much – she felt too much, all at once, Feyre had told me. Only now could I see what she meant.

Nesta stood there for another moment, weighing up the situation.

Then she turned and slapped Cassian hard across the face.

The sound echoed around the room and in an instant Mor was in her face, snarling. Azriel's shadows flared around him; Elain flinched back further into the doorway and _Amren_ , Cauldron be damned, raised her eyebrows in amusement and – approval?

Cassian turned his head back, slowly, and he stared at her in disbelief. Speechless – for once.

"You told me she was _dead._ " Short, sharp words, hurled with viciousness and anger. Nesta snarled right back at Mor, raising her voice as she whirled on Cassian. "You let us believe that – let us grieve when you didn't know for sure?" Her eyes glittered and, just for a second, I could have sworn a spark danced there. "We have lost everything - _everything_ – to your kind. Elain-" her voice faltered, ever so slightly, over the name "Elain's was meant to be getting married next month. Now, we can't even cross the wall for fear of being crucified with ash wood. We are trapped here with nothing but each other – and you let us think that we had lost our sister too _."_

Nesta finished her rant, voice low and fists clenched. Everyone in the room was tensed – waiting to see what happened next. She looked at Feyre again, and anger flashed in her eyes once more.

She turned and walked out without saying another word.

Cassian looked inclined to follow her but I met his gaze and shook my head. She needed time to come to terms with what had happened. Reluctantly, Cass nodded and I could have sighed in relief – those two were a terrible influence on each other. Mother help us all if they decided to stop fighting.

Elain, to her credit, remained in the doorway despite her pale face and shaking hands. Her eyes fell on Feyre and lingered there – no doubt processing what had happened. She didn't try to explain Nesta's actions, but rather made her way over to Feyre, clumsy as a newborn foal in her Fae body.

Feyre watched her closely, and I could feel her uncertainty through the bond – and see it written all over her face. Elain was her older sister and yet Feyre had always been the one looking after her. Elain, by all accounts, had been gentle but naïve – protected from the world, betrothed to a Lord's son and content to live a charmed life. Having all of that snatched away was a devastating blow – especially in such a brutal manner. More than the trauma of the transformation or exile to Prythian, though, was another problem – a redheaded problem lurking behind Azriel's shadows in the corner of the room. We'd deal with _that_ later.

Elain reached out and took one of Feyre's hands in her own. With the fear in Elain's eyes and the clunky way she moved, the gesture looked forced and painfully awkward. Despite that, Elain looked at her sister with genuine love and sincerity in her eyes.

"I'm glad you're still here – and I'm sorry for what you've been through." The words were stiff – as if Elain couldn't quite work out what to say. But she was trying.

"And… thank you. For everything. For taking us in now and… for looking after us for all those years." Elain glanced around, painfully aware of her audience, but pushed ahead. "When we were told… When we thought you were dead, I- I realised I'd never said that. Thanked you. And it was stupid, but… I wanted you to know that. That we owe you our lives, many times over, and that I'm sorry – I'm sorry that I failed you."

Feyre looked at her sister – really looked at her, seeing the gentle soul that had been through so much and yet still remained kind. Shadows haunted Elain's eyes and I knew that she was not the same person that had been forced into that Cauldron – that however she seemed, she might still be broken on the inside, where no one might see. And yet her gentle nature remained – something even Hybern and the Cauldron couldn't take away.

Feyre squeezed her hand and smiled tentatively. A truce – and a glimmer of hope for the future. Elain smiled back at her, before turning and hurrying out of the room.

Tiredness was beginning to bear down on me, and I wanted nothing more than to sleep with Feyre in my arms. There was still so much we had to talk about, but it could wait - anything could wait right now.

I wrapped my arms around Feyre's shoulders and whispered my suggestion in her ear. She shook her head, and I was about to whinge until she responded.

"I need to speak to Nesta – I can't leave it like that. But by all means, head to our chamber – I'll meet you there later." She gave me a tired smile and kissed my palm before striding off. I felt her absence keenly, but this was something she needed to do – and besides, I'd have her for the rest of the night.

Turning to Azriel, I asked him quietly to give Lucien a room but to keep him under extreme surveillance. The High Lady had given him a place here but I was still cautious; there were too many variables in play here for him to be predictable, not least the fact that his oblivious mate was nearby. Az nodded and disappeared in a whisper of shadows.

Cassian had already gone – presumably to stretch his wings. Like any Illyrian, it had been killing him to stay grounded - but thanks to my mate, he was healed and whole. I smiled, just a little – she would never cease to surprise me.

Murmuring farewells to Amren and Mor, I winnowed out to the room Feyre and I shared and collapsed on the bed. It didn't feel so empty any more – not when I knew she'd be here soon.

I knew that tonight, for the first time in a while, I would sleep without any nightmares. Feyre always managed to keep them at bay.


	17. Chapter 17

FPOV

Nesta was surprisingly difficult to find.

It was only by following her scent – flame and earth and the bitter tang of fury – that I tracked her to a rooftop on the outskirts of Velaris.

She was sitting on the edge, legs hanging over the side. Were it anyone else, I would have marvelled at the lack of fear – but the woman before me had faced down enough monsters that I doubted she knew the feeling.

I approached her from behind, making my footsteps rustle to let her know I was there. She gave no response, even as I sat down beside her. Together, we looked out across the city - at the bright lights and the bustling life.

I had never sat with Nesta so long before without speaking – usually we would have fought bitterly or stayed as far apart as possible to avoid doing so. But that was when I was human – a lifetime ago. A different person ago.

The silence between us was laden with unsaid words and I struggled to find the right ones to begin with. I opened my mouth – to say what, I didn't know – but Nesta spoke first.

"The night Mother died, you were barely seven years old." The surprise must have shown on my face, but Nesta ploughed ahead. "It was the wasting sickness – Father insisted that we were kept away in case we caught it too." She laughed without humour, and I saw the irony – the same man had been content to watch us starve before his eyes.

"Only when everyone was asleep, I crept in to her room. I wanted to see her – especially after what I had heard the healers whispering to Father earlier that day." Nesta paused at that – as if the memory had stolen the words from her.

My sister turned to face me, finally, and stared at me with all the world in her eyes.

"Except… you were there. And I heard what she made you say – what you promised her."

I stared at her, struck dumb.

Nesta… she had known. All this time, she had known.

My promise to my mother was the only thing that had forced me to keep going some days, when there was no food on the table and starvation was only one bad week away. I had never told my father, never told my sisters – not when the knowledge that she had asked me and not them could have driven us apart.

Nesta ploughed ahead, her voice still steady and cool as I floundered.

"It had been like a slap in the face – that she had asked you, the youngest. That she hadn't trusted Father – or me – to look after us. The first time you brought back food, I felt it again – that you had provided for us when I was content to sit back and let us starve to see if our father would bother to help."

Nesta turned away once more, facing the city lights.

"You did nothing but fight for us, and I hated you for it – because you were doing everything I wouldn't."

No tenderness, no gentle words – never from her. And yet… it felt good, to hear her speak openly. To have the words reach across the years of silence between us.

"We thought you dead once before, when you left to go to Prythian to save your High Lord from the wicked Faerie Queen. But when Cassian told us this time – it was different. Different to know for sure." She looked at me, her gaze piercing. "I already thought we had lost everything after… after we became Fae." Nesta stopped again, choosing her words carefully.

"The first time, I didn't mourn your death. You had chosen to go, despite knowing the risks – and I respected that. I always knew that one day we would have to choose our own paths. All I wanted was to see Elain happily married - and then I would have taken the rest of our money and left this damned continent to see what I might find." Her eyes gleamed and I saw it – saw how my sister might very well conquer the word with her spirit of flame.

"But this time… you were trapped. As far as anyone would tell us, you were a spy in the court of the male who had locked you up. And that… that was the one thing I couldn't endure. The thought of you being anything other than free."

She fell silent again as I tried to order the thoughts jumbling my mind.

Nesta had come for me. The first time I had gone to Prythian, as Tamlin's prisoner, she had hired a mercenary and followed after me. Because… she wanted me to be free.

My sister, who would never coddle me but who would follow me into Prythian to fight for my freedom.

I looked at Nesta – really _looked_ at her, this woman before me.

She stared back, and I could have sworn I saw flames burning in her eyes.

She spoke, quietly but not softly.

"You grew up."

I spoke at last, my steady voice surprising me.

"We both did."

Indeed, for better or worse, we had both changed beyond recognition from the people we'd been in that cottage, on the brink of starvation.

Nesta spoke once more, the words harsh but honest.

"We owe each other the truth – but beyond that, I don't know. What happened to me, to _Elain,_ " anger darkened her voice at that "Perhaps you had no choice, but you brought this into our lives. Whatever happens now… that is something I can't forgive. Not yet."

As much as the words ached, I understood. Everything my sisters had had, the lives they had built - snatched away from them in the cruellest way possible. All because I had been foolish and broken enough to tell Ianthe everything about them.

Wordlessly, Nesta got to her feet. I followed suit and for a moment, we stood there, just looking at each other.

From this point on, everything would change. War was coming – and there would be little I could do to spare my sisters from it.

But we would move forwards – if only because it was all we could do.

Nesta lingered another second before turning and stalking off across the rooftops. I watched her go – and then winnowed back to the house.

To my mate.

I appeared in our room and, for a second, I just stood there. The soft stars shining through the open roof bathed the room in a gentle light and it was all I could do not to weep at the feeling of being _home._

Rhys was lying across the bed, looking for all the world as if he had meant to wait for me and couldn't keep his eyes open. Craving his warmth, his arms, I shucked my clothes off and pulled on one of his flannel shirts. I crawled across the bed towards him and lay beside him, drinking in the image of his sleeping form.

I would have been content to stay there forever.

Slowly, those violet eyes opened and gazed back at me. Carefully, I lifted a hand and brushed the hair from his eyes before cupping his face. Rhys rumbled in satisfaction deep in his chest before taking my hand in his and kissing my palm.

Suddenly, he rolled us over so I was tucked into the circle of his arms. I buried my face in his chest as he nuzzled the top of my head, breathing in the scent of each other. Home – Rhys was my home.

For the first time in a long while, I slept soundly – at peace in the arms of my mate.

 **A.N. This is the penultimate chapter – epilogue coming soon! Thank you all for your comments – they've helped me to keep going.**

 **Happy reading!**


	18. Epilogue

RPOV

The campfire roared and crackled and I pulled Feyre closer against me. A chuckle reverberated through her at my brazenness and I grinned as I leaned forwards to nip at her _delicious_ ear.

She hummed in pleasure and I purred in response, pulling her even closer to me. For a moment, I marvelled at the feeling – my mate's warmth huddled against me, her scent filling the air. Once, I thought I had lost this forever. I would never take an instant of it for granted, no matter how long I lived. War with Hybern was swiftly approaching but I had planned this getaway for my inner circle to help alleviate some of the tensions we all felt. Moreover – and I was loath to think it – it was possible that this could be the last time we had together.

If the events of the past few weeks had taught me anything, it was that death came on swift wings and did not wait for goodbyes. I was not foolish enough to not consider the possibility that some of my court might be lost in the war. However, tonight wasn't about grand gestures of farewell – it was simply a time for us to cherish what we had and enjoy each other's company. To remind ourselves that, whatever the cost, we had something to fight for

Far out in the mountains, we were all staying in the cabin for tonight. We had spent the day hunting and drinking and watching Amren threaten to remove Cassian's favourite part when he taunted her. Feyre's sisters and Lucien were back in Velaris – partly because they still didn't trust me fully and were hesitant to leave the security of the city, but… this time I had set aside was for the people I loved most in all the world. Maybe it was selfish, but all I wanted was to be with only them – just for a little while.

Now, when darkness had fallen, we gathered around a campfire for good company – and an opportunity to drink more. Beside me, Az took a swig from the bottle being handed round before passing it to me. Casual, relaxed, a little reckless – we could be those things tonight.

Mor had just finished telling the tale of how she had once been caught infiltrating a den of Naga and fought her way out, tooth and nail. Vivid and animated, she was a wonderful storyteller and we had all been enraptured. Back when I had been a soldier in my father's war camp, we had told each other stories around the campfire each night to pass the time. Myths and legends, handed down from generation to generation – a bond between us and those who came before.

I could see Cass gearing up to speak – no doubt about to launch into a bragging account of his exploits across the centuries. However, before he could speak, Amren sat up from where she had been lounging and looked across at us all. We were all silenced instantly and even the campfire quietened under her ancient gaze.

Old – Amren was older than anything I had ever met. Whatever tale she had to tell, I had no doubt it would leave us in awe – or scared out of our minds.

Those silver eyes became distant – as if seeing another place, another time. Slowly but clearly, she began.

"In the beginning, there were three."

Feyre had leaned forward now, elbows on her knees as she leant forwards intently. I would have moaned at the loss of contact if it weren't for the fact that, in over half a millennium, I had never heard Amren tell _this_ story before.

"Three sisters, born from nothing but the darkness itself. The youngest of them all was as youthful and radiant as the rising sun. The second sister was gentle and nurturing like the sun is to creatures on the Earth. And the third sister, the oldest of them all, was as wise and cunning as the darkest night."

Amren gazed at the campfire, and I realised with a start that it had flickered away to almost nothing. Still, Amren continued.

"After the three were made, the world was created and so were all the creatures that walk upon it. However, the sisters had come before the world and would be there long after it turned to dust. So the sisters decided to weave the world a future."

Amren paused once more, and I sensed that this story was different to the others that we had told. Perhaps it was different to any story, given the utter silence her words commanded,

"The youngest sister chose the threads for the tapestry of fate. She chose gold and black, blue and brown for the different lives humans and Fae would lead. The colours she chose would shape what happened in the lives of those she chose for – she might bring misery or good fortune, wealth or poverty."

"The middle sister wove the threads of fate the younger sister chose. Sometimes, the threads fell into place on their own – decisions and choices made by those in this world might affect their own place in the tapestry. However, the middle sister could pull the threads as she wished and, while she could not change the decisions, she could weave the tapestry differently further on."

"The eldest sister could not weave or thread the tapestry. Instead, she was given the shears – to cut the threads of life as their time came. She chose who was long lived, and who would be taken young. This sister could not be swayed by the other two, and continued to snip threads as she chose. She will continue – as the others will continue to weave and thread – until the end of this world."

I hadn't realised how dark it had become.

We all sat in the darkness for another moment, letting the words sink in.

Finally, Amren released the fire from her piercing gaze. Slowly, it regained strength, casting light over our frozen faces once more.

Slowly as death, Mor turned to Amren.

"That wasn't just a story." There was no question in her wide brown eyes.

Amren just looked back at her and in her silver stare I saw everything – rulers and worlds and ages that had been long gone or had yet to be at all.

Finally, she replied: "You call them 'the Mother', as if they are one. They work together but keep away from each other's work to keep a balance – to maintain the fairness of life."

"How do you know?" Feyre pressed her. Amren flashed her teeth – a dangerous smile.

"Careful, girl. There are some questions you might not want answered."

Despite that, Feyre held her gaze – the gaze of one who knew more than anyone ever should. Amren's mouth quirked to the side in an approving smirk, and she tilted her head.

"Or maybe you do. This _is_ a special occasion, after all…" She continued to stare indolently, and I realised with a start that she was waiting for one of us to say something.

Of _course_ she wouldn't just tell us; Amren found toying with us to be her greatest pleasure.

"They aren't of this world," Az spoke quietly, much to my surprise, as a pair of silver eyes flicked to him "The three sisters, I mean. If they came before our world they are somewhere beyond it – in another realm."

Cassian chimed in, "So even supposing you managed to travel between worlds, how by the Cauldron would you have been able to get them to talk to you? You couldn't know what they were thinking…"

Feyre's voice was so faint I almost missed it.

"Unless you were one of them."

Four heads snapped to her before we all turned to Amren. She was grinning like a cat, feral and wild and utterly thrilled to be playing such a game.

For minutes, nobody spoke.

Not one word. Not even from Cassian.

I had known Amren was something different and dangerous. I hadn't pushed her on it because I didn't need to know.

But… _shit._

Finally, mercifully, Amren – she who controlled fate – spoke.

"I'll spare you the pain of guessing the rest." She rolled her shoulders – so casual. So _normal._

"I was the middle sister. I wove the tapestry, placing the threads as I would. However," she frowned "I was… ripped from that place. Someone had the Cauldron – the only power greater than mine – and was able to pull me from my tapestry and into this world. I've been trapped ever since."

"It couldn't have been a coincidence – not when the threads I was weaving at the time belonged to each of you."

I started – _our_ threads. Amren had held our fate in her hands, in another world. Another place.

"I can't tell you what was woven there. However, I _can_ tell you" she gestured to me and Feyre "That your mating bond was one that clicked into place naturally. I helped to tug the threads that brought you together on Calanmai, but… it was already there."

Feyre and I were silent. For the first time in centuries, I had nothing to say.

Feyre – we were meant to be. From the beginning, we were fated to come together. It changed nothing about how I felt for her but… it was strange to know.

Amren continued, ignoring our shocked faces.

"I don't know if I can go back. Without me there, the Cauldron chooses the fate of each creature – or the threads fall as they will. My sisters, however, will keep bringing thread and snipping them until time ends. And no, before you all ask – I can't tell you when you or anyone else will meet their end. Some events are fixed in place but others were not set before I was taken from that place. And, even if I could tee you, I would not risk unbalancing the fairness of the world."

Amren's eyes grew dull, as if she was dome with talking about the subject. I had many, _many_ questions for my second but I suspected that she would simply ignore them – or that I didn't want to hear her answers.

Whatever this information meant – we would go forwards with it. I would use it however we could. If Amren wanted to try and return home, I would help her however I could; she had served my court faithfully for so long.

 _Controller of fate._

But now – now was the beginning of the end. The end of what had started long, long ago.

It was time to go to war.


End file.
